


The Devil and Chloe Decker

by Taz



Series: Sit Down You're Rocking the Boat [6]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Drinking & Talking, Gen, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7393327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taz/pseuds/Taz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are those?” Chloe pointed at the envelopes that Lucifer had placed on the bar.<br/>“Prayers and dreams.”<br/>“That’s right, you’re the man who does favors to be repaid at some unspecified time.”<br/>“Maybe never, and then it’s bargain.”<br/>“I have a dream.”<br/>“Do you? Tell me!”<br/>“Ever since I was a little girl, it’s been a dream of mine not to find my husband in a shallow grave. Now, where is he?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil and Chloe Decker

Lucifer stepped from the elevator and descended to the main floor, striding down the steps in time to the music. The video screens splashed his enlarged image to every part of the club. The volume of the music began to drop but the beat picked up, slowly but perceptively, as a spotlight illuminated a grand piano with sheet music spread open on the rack, an empty bench, and a waiting microphone.

Wednesday at Lux wasn’t a Club Night; it was a night when movers and shakers booked private rooms, and less lucky mortals lounged in booths and longed to be noticed. It didn't matter who, they all drank, tried to finalized their deals, and waited... There was no question that the master was in the house. There was a sense of heightened anticipation. Eyes filled with speculation followed his every move.

He flicked the tip of his tongue between his lips and tasted the swirling energies. Lust, that had been smoldering like musk in the background, burst into flame and subsumed the lesser urges of Gluttony and Greed. Pride, provoked, inspired Envy, and Envy goaded Wrath. Sloth was the savory, adding piquancy to the brew; somewhere in this room was a scriptwriter who had blown his last deadline—Lucifer detected more than a hint of incipient despair—and would soon be begging on his knees for a favor.

Favors were the Devil’s business and the night was young.

The business of Lux came first, though. The DJ was starting to play slow jams, winding down, and only a few couples were dancing. A young girl with perky breasts had to pretend to trip as she brushed past him. She pressed against him, letting him feel the warmth. He caressed her shoulder, smelled her perfume—Midnight Candy—and whispered in her ear that Leonardo DiCaprio had told him she had nice tits, and left her looking desperately up at the smoke glass walls of the private rooms.

He caught one of the servers by the elbow. “Tell Ollie I want to see him, and bring the bible.” He whispered in her ear, and pinched her chin.

Shortly, Olivier the assistant manager, turned up in the alcove behind the bar that was the staging area for the night’s festivities. He had the guest book in hand, as requested.

Blond, square-jawed, and ripped, Olivier (real name Oliver) was, according to Mazikeen, dim as a plank, possessed of superior lingual gifts, but no acting ability whatsoever. He did have vast ambition, however. Lucifer approved of ambition… It led to so many falls.

“Ollie.” Lucifer put down the stack of invoices he’d been looking over, but kept a finger on it. “Any meetings, or screen tests coming up, that you can’t reschedule?”

“No, sir, but…?”

“Good. I want you to take Mazikeen’s shifts, starting immediately. You’ll be compensated appropriately, of course.”

“What?”

“It’s opening night! The star has broken her leg! This is your big break.”

“I don’t understand. Is Maze hurt?”

Lucifer sighed, mental regret for the younger generation.

“A family emergency has come up. No way of knowing how long she’ll out.”

“I didn’t know Maze had a family.”

“Surprise! And I’ll need you do something for me. I want an inventory of all liquor stocks, and dry goods. By Monday. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, sure!” At the hint of a chance to catch his superior taking kickbacks, the light finally went on in Olivier’s eyes.

“I knew I could count on you. Now, who do we have for the weekend?” Lucifer held out his hand for the guest list, looked it over and approved of all but one for Saturday night. “Call his handlers and tell them he’s banned.”

“But…” Olivier started to protest. Lucifer overrode him, drawing a heavy black line through the name, and handing the book back.

“He was caught, pissing in a restaurant kitchen’s mop bucket, on video. I know, he’s adorable, but if you want to run an exclusive club, never, ever, let the trash in.”

“Got it.” Olivier turned to leave, and then remembered. “Kim from the talent agency called. She said she has a Brat Pack, a Lost Generation, and Romantic Poets.”

“Romantic Poets?!”

“Byron, Shelly, Keats…” Olivier took a sticky note from his pocket. “Col-er-idge... I don’t know who the rest of these guys are.”

“Drug addicts, perverts and fornicators.” Lucifer considered it, and the thought was delicious, but this generation wouldn’t have a clue. “Rat Pack. Have her send me the details and, if you’d be so kind, tell Allie I want a word with her.”

“Sure thing.” Olivier stood there. “Anything else?”

“No.” Lucifer make a shooing motion. “Don’t let me detain you.”

Olivier vanished, and a few minutes later Alicia came in.

“You wanted to see me Mr. Morningstar?”

“Yes. I wanted to ask how your mother was doing.”

They chatted for a few minutes about Alicia’s mother, who managed a convenience store in Van Nuys, and had broken her leg two weeks ago. Finally, Alicia said, “I have to get back to my table. Mom said to thank you for the fruit basket. She’ll probably be sending you boxes of Ring-Dings as soon as she’s on her feet.”

“I look forward to it. Oh…” Lucifer reached into his pocket, and handed her a card. “You have an appointment on Tuesday. Don’t be late.”

Alicia read the name on the card, and threw herself at Lucifer and kissed him with extreme prejudice. He stopped her, before someone walked in. “Back to your table.”

Alicia left glowing. Unlike Olivier, she did have talent. More importantly, by Monday everyone on staff would think they knew who the server ‘most likely’ to swap sex for promotion was.

Lucifer settled back to contemplate a job well done. Under Mazikeen’s whip, Lux ran like a well-oiled machine, and an abrupt change in the power structure was bound to create disquiet. It was particularly important to keep Olivier busy. A make-work task, arrange things so that rumors started to fly, and the little proto-fascist would be too distracted to muck up anything crucial, such as the servers’ schedules. That was the sort of thing that could provoke an all-out revolt.

Time to go to work.

Lucifer replaced the invoices in the file cabinet and buzzed up to the sound booth to let the DJ know it was time to take a break. After checking his appearance in the mirror—lips ruddy, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed—good, but a touch more was wanted. He loosened his tie and undid the top button on his shirt, and only then strolled out on the floor.

He slipped onto the piano bench and picked up the dying notes of the last song and riffed on the theme, until he found a segue into “That Old Black Magic.” He began to sing, and indulged himself in every standard he could think of from “Witchcraft” to “Everybody Loves Somebody.”

There was a basket next to the music rack and, every now and again, one of the servers would drop an envelope into it. It was generally known that it wasn’t there for tips.

There were half-a-dozen envelopes in it by the time he was finishing the set. That was when he spotted Chloe Decker coming down the stairs.

She was wearing tights and a short pea-coat, and carrying a fusty canvas tote. From the determined expression on her face, as she skirted around the edge of the dance floor and made for the dark end of the bar, he could tell she wasn’t there to party.

Lucifer caught Jamie’s eye with the look that meant ‘serve my guest promptly and courteously.’

_“…the record shows I took the blows, and did it my way.”_

He finished the song and, on a whim, began another,

_“There may be trouble ahead, but while there's music and moonlight and love and romance…”_

It gave him time to study Chloe's features. When you looked at her full in the face, they seemed to be perfect, merely pretty, but there was something fine and hawk-like about her profile and that dissonance was what made her beautiful.

When he’d collected his applause, and the envelopes, he joined her at the bar. Without being prompted, Jamie set a shot glass and a bottle of Lucifer's usual in front of them. Lucifer topped up Chloe’s glass, and then filled his own.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of Sinatra,” Chloe said. 

“To Old Blue Eyes!” He saluted her.

“To Old Red Eyes!” She tapped his glass.

They drank.

“How's Trixie, and poor Doll Malcolm?

"Doll Malcolm is toast. She put his head down the garbage disposal, after explaining, very carefully, that her mommy is a policeman, and it was nothing personal, but he was an ass and had broken the law.”

“I like her style. She cleans up after herself."

“I wish at her age that I had been half as smart and one-tenth as resilient.” Chloe’s smile was a little crooked.

You didn’t leave her in the car, did you?”

“She’s home with my mother.”

“Penelope’s in town? Let me take you out to dinner.”

“She’s only staying the week."

“You know that I like your style, too,” Lucifer said. “You don’t fold in the clinches. Another round?”

“Sure.”

He filled both of their glasses, and they sipped in silence. Finally Chloe said, “What are those?” and pointed at the envelopes he’d placed on the bar.

“Prayers and dreams.”

“That’s right, you’re the man who does favors to be repaid at some unspecified time.”

“Maybe never, and then it’s bargain.”

“I have a dream.”

“Do you? Tell me!”

“Ever since I was a little girl, it’s been a dream of mine not to find my husband in a shallow grave. Now, where is he?”

“Where’s who? Or, should I say whom?”

“Lucifer!”

“Oh dear. You’re ‘fraid the Devil done fer Dan!”

“I admit it crossed my mind. And I wouldn’t have entirely blamed you, but I thought about our conversation earlier. You don’t lie, you just don’t tell the whole truth. Now, where is he?”

“Upstairs.” Lucifer made a _moue_. “I have to tell you he’s not in a fit state to receive company.”

Chloe shook her head.

“He went on a bender, didn’t he?”

“You could say that. Yes. Definitely, you could say that.”

Chloe kicked the canvas tote under her feet. “I brought a change of clothes, in case he needed it.”

“That’s a relief,” Lucifer said, sincerely. “I had to throw everything away and I was afraid I was going to have to give him some of mine.”

“He doesn’t know when to quit.”

“I noticed.”

“At least the two of you didn’t get into a fight. ”

“Something else came up. Drink?”

“Thank you.” Lucifer refreshed their glasses. “I was afraid you would think he was in it with Malcolm—into whatever it was Malcolm was into.”

“I had a pretty good idea that he wasn’t. The night the night Vanessa Dunlear was arrested, Malcolm tried to murder me. Dan came charging over the hill, like the U.S. Cavalry. He was too late, but if anyone deserved a participation trophy…”

“I guess he was making a habit of it.”

“Being late?”

“Saving people from Malcolm. At Palmetto, he was the one who shot Malcolm!”

“What did you...?”

“Mind if I ask you…?”

“Why?”

“No, where. What I meant was, where did you meet him?”

“At the Academy, when I was a cadet; he was one of my first ride-alongs. Let me tell you, everyone on the force knew about ‘Hot Tub High School’ by then, and he was the only one who didn’t tease me relentlessly.”

“And you were so grateful he wasn’t a complete tosser that you had to marry him.”

“No. I fell in love with him. He was supportive. He didn’t get mad that I could outshoot him. He was proud of me. And funny, and in case you haven’t noticed, he’s good looking, and…”

“Get your eyes checked, girlfriend. He’s perfectly adequate.”

“He’s great in the sack!”

Lucifer opened his mouth.

“Don’t you d-dare refute that!”

Lucifer shut his mouth.

“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” he said. “Your nose is red. Are you all right?”

“Sorry. Sorry.” Chloe brushed at her eye. A tear? “He was f-fun! And he was my b-best f-friend.” There was a noticeable catch in her voice.

“What happened?”

“He got promoted. We got married. We started talking about having a baby, and… Boom! I got pregnant. He was over the moon. But then when Trixie was born, he changed. He totally focused on work, and became Super Duper Macho Man. _What are you doing? Where are you going? What time will you be back? Call me if you’re going to be fifteen minutes late. Be careful out there! You’re not going to let her climb on that, are you?!_ ”

“Sounds insufferable.”

"There’s something about becoming a father that turns men into dicks.”

“That’s one explanation.”

“He tried to talk me into quitting the force.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to get you knocked up again.”

Chloe gave him a black look.

“And you let him live?!”

“It was a near thing.”

“But you still think there’s a chance that the two of you could get back together?”

“I don’t know! The last few months I thought he’d changed, and wanted to work things out, but now…” Chloe stopped talking, caught her breath and then continued. “I think I understand what he was going through. When Malcolm took Trixie…”

She stopped again, but this time it was because tears were pouring down her face. Lucifer handed her his pocket handkerchief. She mopped her face, blew her nose and offered it back.

“Keep it.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s been a rough week. Lucifer, tell me what you’ve done.”

“What do you mean? I’ve haven’t done anything.”

"Don't!" Chloe fixed him with a look. “No way does Dan get away with this scot-free! Maybe taking the gun from the evidence locker, if they thought he was being blackmailed. He’ll be demoted or more likely lose his job…”

Chloe reached for the bottle, and missed.

Lucifer moved it out of her reach. “Cutting you off.”

“No fair! How does he get away with shooting Malcolm? What favor is he going to owe you?”

“Chloe! Listen to me! I didn’t have any idea Dan shot Malcolm until you told, and I haven’t done a thing he’s likely to thank me for.”

“Is that the truth?”

As she looked into his eyes, Lucifer exerted his will.

“I am not the Lord of Lies,” he said.

“Then what’s happening?”

“For starters, you’re going to give me your car keys, and Jamie’s going to call you an Uber.” Lucifer waved at the bartender. “I’ll send the car home with Sweet Cheeks in the morning.”

"Who's Sweet Cheeks?"

"My pet name for... Never mind. No! Give me those! Next you know you'll be stripping and dancing on the piano."

"That's not a thing I do. Watch your hands!"

After extracting the keys from Chloe’s pocket, Lucifer picked up the canvas tote, and guided her out the back through the service hallway to the freight elevator.

On the way down, Chloe again whispered, “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” said the Devil.

 

 

_Finis  
07/04/2016_

 


End file.
